Strength to Grow
by InformalSpoofer
Summary: Toph refuses to make amends, and Zuko is the only one stubborn enough to force her forward; stumbling, he guides her. TophxZuko.


Strength to Grow

Toph recognized those feet a mile away and was struggling to keep the bite off her tongue before he even entered the seedy bar. It didn't help that she was already drunk, even if that was a well-kept secret between her and the keep, nor that tonight's crowd was somehow worse than usual, reeking and drawing only one line: The line around her stool. But they were her kind of people and this was her kind of life, so she let herself channel her frustration into the boy (poor little baby) getting lost out on the street.

_Didn't Katara give you directions?_ she thought at him. He didn't take notice. Big surprise. Toph almost decided against another drink until she remembered how they expected her to look. She rapped her knuckles on the bar, twice. The barkeep didn't take his time refilling her drink - oh no. Toph snatched the shot glass roughly up and waited, watching the idiot walk up and down the street.

_Congratulations,_ she almost said out loud when he finally noticed the absence of a sign or actual door that alerted those looking to this little joint. He strode in, paused (no one stopped to stare at him, which seemed to surprise him), then set a course straight for the bar.

"Toph." _No cordial greetings, I see._ "There you are." _Now_ the other patrons were staring.

"If we're skipping formalities," she said, teasing the edge of her glass with a finger, "then let me just get it over with: No, no, hurtful comment, now leave me alone." She would've knocked back the shot if Stupid hadn't grabbed her wrist, his hand warmer than hands should be and firmer than _anyone_ should grab _her_, even an old friend.

"No, you don't," he said, his voice firm and authoritative and making her want to punch his lights out. She settled for slamming a fist down on his elbow so he let go and knocking the shot back before he could grab her again.

"Good luck with that, Firelord," she said coolly, making Zuko's title draw out like an insult. "Speaking of which, who's running your country while you play with me on your boyfriend's request?"

"Mai," Zuko said, hard as the hand that landed on her shoulder, squeezing. "And if you think you can insult me, let me just say one thing: _Azula._"

"Fair enough," Toph gritted out, wanting for the second time to punch his lights out, this time deciding that he'd earned a punch-free minute with that point.

Zuko hesitated, probably to see if she'd punch him or burst into a teary confession or something. When she did neither, his hand relaxed but remained. "We have to talk."

Toph gritted her teeth so they hurt. "Oh yeah," she meant to ask; it came out flat instead. "'S that so." _Shit, I need to relax._ No slurring in front of Zuko.

He nudged her off the stool. "Considering the fact you've concerned everyone I know except Mai and my incarcerated family? Yeah." Toph jerked her arm away but kept standing next to him, wondering if that included Iroh. She hoped not. She was _fine._"Where are you staying?"

"Isn't that forward of you," she sneered, brushing off her shoulder, pretending the acknowledgement wasn't delayed. His stance shifted into a more steady, stubborn stance (_no need to get so defensive, geez_). Before he could get all hissy, Toph continued, talking in a manner more befit for an uptight prince - scratch that, Firelord. "My humble abode isn't a far stretch from here," she drawled, walking past him. She wondered how long this was going to take - it took _ages_ to get rid of Katara, and the two were similar enough in just the wrong ways to make Toph ready to comply with certain stages at the get-go to hurry this up.

Zuko followed her in silence. His pulse was a little hurried but his body was relaxed. Toph wondered if he had his nation in mind. Heck, _she_ did, and she didn't have a shiny crown and couldn't wield that _stupid_ element…then again, if she was on his mind, she was probably the only thing there. He never used much of his brain's space.

Toph stopped in front of her house - small, completely made of stone thanks to yours truly, and, according to everyone else, impressive. "Here we are," Toph announced. "Home sweet home."

She kicked the door open and gestured for Zuko to enter. When he hesitated, she teased, "Ladies first." He grunted under his breath and tensed; frustrated with his touchiness (_almost worse than Katara, there, buddy_), Toph amended herself. "Or, y'know, _guests_ first."

Zuko coughed out his tenseness. "Of course." He walked in and stopped halfway into the room, his body shifting to the left, taking everything in. "Nice place," he said, his tone straddling sarcasm and awkwardness.

"Yeah." Toph shut the door behind her and pointed. "Bedroom," she said, like the blanket rolled up in the corner wasn't obvious. "Living room." Another obvious one; one long couch made of earth was opposite the empty wall of her 'bedroom.' "Kitchen." She pointed out the bag of rice, box of supplies, and few pots in another corner. "Bathroom." There was a door at the back; it was the only extra room to the house besides a half-empty closet, which she pointed out with a final, definitive finger. "My junk. You can look if you want, but don't touch the wooden chest if ya know what's good for you." Zuko simply listened, a slight shift in his weight when she spoke the only indication he was listening - he was probably nodding, but she wasn't sure.

"This isn't dirty," he said, bemused.

Toph laughed and bent up a chair, plopping down. "Oh, I see - you were sent to be my maid, huh?" Zuko turned to her. "Nice change of pace. My last few visits were attempts at _straightening out_ my life."

"You're drunk." Zuko looked at her (she could feel his eyes, memorized the gut feeling years ago), calmer than a fire bender should be (mad father, mad sister, mad Avatar, mad Firelord).

"No I'm not," she challenged.

"Where do you store your water?" he asked, turning towards her 'kitchen.' His voice was so _quiet_, so…not Zuko. Caught off-guard, Toph pointed at the pitcher in the corner.

"The well's down the street if you need more," she added, feeling Zuko walk to the 'kitchen' and kneel down. He wasn't just messing with the pitcher, though: He was getting his princely (okay, Firelord-y) hands on everything else, sifting through _her_ stuff like it was his. Not a big deal, but _weird_. He was usually more polite than that.

Then he picked up the clay teapot she'd made herself and turned to her, his fingers barely weighing on her box of tinder. "Would you mind if I made tea?"

Bemused, Toph shook her head.

-

Toph fell asleep first, grumbling vaguely about the couch and jerking her blanket up to her ears. Zuko took his time cleaning up, mulling over his (lack of) plan. Katara had made it sound like Toph was spitting fire; Aang had made it sound like she was being the most stubborn he'd ever seen. She just seemed grouchy and stuck in a self-made rut to Zuko. He tried to remember what he'd been like after he was banished and almost laughed; if they thought Toph was being bad, what would they have thought about _him_ then?

He'd come expecting to have to shout and drag her off and finally somehow hit his inspirational speech stride, making her realize what she was doing, what she was avoiding - but in the bar, he'd remembered how much he _hated_ it when Uncle did that, and all he wanted to do was get her somewhere comfortable and safe and talk about things that weren't her family. _He'd_ certainly never been easy to talk to when he was upset. He still wasn't. What was the point of starting a fight? It wasn't like he was emotionally invested, anyway…he just didn't want to watch - or, rather, hear second-hand stories about - one of his allies suffering and pretending they weren't.

His Uncle cut that out of him, fast, and it was one of the things he was most grateful for.

Zuko sat down on the couch and sighed, watching Toph shift on the floor. The last time he'd seen her was before this whole mess went down, before Lao Bei Fong decided a joining between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation, so to speak, would be a good idea - a sign of peace. Before Toph left her house a scarred battleground, before Katara went from thinking Toph was _upset_ to thinking that Toph was throwing her life away.

Honestly, Zuko didn't think she was behaving much differently. She just wasn't smiling anymore.

-

They went to sleep after a quiet cup of tea (_much_ better than he used to make it, reminding Toph of how long it'd been since she last saw him and of Iroh's unflagging love). Zuko didn't ask about her parents or her drinking or her last fight with Katara, and when Toph finally broke down and asked _why_ he'd come, his answer made her uncomfortably light.

_"I didn't come because anyone asked me to. I came because I don't want to see a friend be as stupid as I was."_

But Toph wasn't being stupid, and, surprise surprise, when she woke up the next morning, Zuko was gone. She hadn't felt him leave. His spot on the floor was tidy, his bag gone, the pitcher of water heavy and full again. His abrupt absence - _no goodbye, even?_ - settled in her chest and Toph covered her face with an arm.

"That was stupid," she sighed out loud. "What a pointless visit, Scarface." She almost wondered if it'd been a dream, but her dreams were much more interesting than _that_. Like she'd dream about not-big-bad _Firelord Zuko_, anyway…It was stupid to even mull about it. Zuko did weird shit sometimes - maybe he thought having tea helped or something. Not that she _needed_ help or anything.

With another sigh, Toph sat up and started to roll up her blanket. Hopefully she wasn't going to be late for work again - not that she really cared. A job that took her…_abroad_…was starting to look awfully appealing compared to serving meals. It'd probably pay better, too.

Toph bent up her box of clothes from underground and touched the apron inside, hesitating. If she wanted, she could always…_no!_ She was sick of herself always falling back to them - taking their money would be crawling back to their house. Forget it. Furious with herself, Toph jerked out her apron and slid it on, tying it automatically in the back.

The front door opened and Toph jumped to her feet, ready to send the intruder flying - then realized it was _Zuko._ "What are you doing here?" she snapped, incensed.

Zuko relaxed, recovering his wide hold on whatever smelled so good. He brought the warmth of the sun with him; Toph hadn't realized it was so cold inside. "Bringing you food," he said, having sense enough to be abashed. "Was I supposed to leave?" That was definitely irritation in his voice, and maybe hurt, and it was that maybe that made Toph ease up.

She dropped her arms and ran a hand under her nose, snorting. "I thought you had," she said, defensive. "I have to go to work," she added when he didn't move from the doorway.

"I'll reimburse you for all the money you didn't earn," Zuko swore very seriously, shutting the door behind him. The warmth remained. Then, just to _annoy_ her, he dropped in a compliment: "Cute apron." He sounded so stiff saying it, like compliments were still a foreign tongue, and he was being sincere but it still annoyed Toph _so much._

"Whatever." She tore the apron off and plopped down, refusing to blush because she was _done_ with crushes on tall, strong, quirky guys who had girlfriends - what was she, 12? "So what, you're moving in?"

Zuko knelt down in front of her. "I told you, I want to talk to you."

"Mission accomplished," Toph drawled. Zuko held out the bowl, touching the tips of her fingers with its edge and tapping her wrist with a spoon. Toph hid her faint surprise by snatching both. "Thanks," she grumbled, taking a bite. At least she could concentrate on the food and not him, and not the conversation about to happen, and not how tense and miserable she felt. "…so? Talk away."

Zuko squirmed on his knees, started to talk, stopped, started to tense, started to talk, stopped, squirmed, tensed more - then relaxed with a sigh and lifted an arm to his face. "How long have you been living on your own?"

"Eight months," she said immediately, and just barely stopped herself from being more specific. Toph gritted her teeth. "Why?"

"Have you taken any money from the Bei Fongs since you left?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Of course not," Toph snapped, forcing herself from getting angry.

Zuko leaned his hands on the ground, fingers splayed out, pulse heavy in his thumbs. "Have you used any of their resources since then?"

"No," she growled.

"But what's your name?" he challenged, voice rising.

"Toph Bei Fong," she snapped back.

"That's right," Zuko said softly, nearly whispering. "And I was still Prince Zuko."

Toph didn't say anything, tense and wary and not following well enough to decide what to say. Zuko scooted closer to her, his presence (the heat, the size, the unexpected maturity) overwhelming.

"It's not about how you feel, or how _they_ feel, anymore. It's not about ending it on good terms, or neutral terms." His hand brushed her wrist and pulled away; she could hear him swallow. "What it's really about now is _closure._ It's about facing those who hurt you." Zuko wasn't supposed to be able to talk like this, to be unafraid of taking her hand and making her touch his scar. "It's about laying out the final tiles. All of them. It's about finally admitting to yourself that you don't need them."

Toph didn't know what to say.

-

Zuko hadn't come with a carriage, but on Appa - Toph didn't ask where Aang was, now, or how Zuko planned on returning to his country. She didn't complain about walking, either; the road to Gaoling was far, but the time was helpful (and driving her mad, and every conversation with Zuko lead her back to the silence at night and her anger and hurt).

A week later and not yet there, Toph resented Aang for keeping Appa for himself - there were only so many ways to avoid talking about the painfully slow mission they were on. Thankfully Zuko wasn't like Katara or Aang or Sokka or, heck, even Appa, and he let her be quiet and dwell on her thoughts.

She sometimes wished he wouldn't.

It was hard thinking of things to talk about - _how's the Fire Nation, how's the missus, any clouds worth talking about?_ Anyway, she was passive by nature - better to hold your words than to let them cut recklessly. Awkward silences weren't too bad, but a week of them, spattered with awkward conversation, got old fast.

So one evening Toph took the first thing she thought about and ran with it, determined to prove to Zuko that she was perfectly capable of _not_ quietly obsessing about her parents. "So…" She could tell he was burning their haremonkey. "How's Mai?" Well, that definitely didn't sound like a girl who wanted to know too much.

"She's okay," Zuko said, oblivious to the burning meat.

_Oookay._ "How's married life treating ya? You guys started spawning yet?"

Zuko slowly turned the haremonkey on the spit. "We're not really ready for kids yet. Ty Lee visits a lot." He pulled the haremonkey away from the fire (not totally burned, thankfully) and set it on the rock Toph made as a makeshift cutting board. "It's kind of hard to tell how Mai's doing. Why?"

Toph rolled her eyes and blew a puff of air at her bangs. "Just making small talk. You overcooked it, by the way."

"What? It looks fine," Zuko protested, cutting it into manageable pieces and holding out a plate for Toph. "You couldn't do better."

Toph shrugged. "Fair enough," she said, picking a piece of meat up with her fingers. Smelled okay from this distance…Toph took a bite. Yup. Burned. Edible, though.

"What about you?" Zuko asked, careful to swallow before talking and to chew thoroughly before swallowing, like a true Prince-Firelord.

Toph snorted and talked around her food. "I have better things to do with my life than pine after guys." She lowered the plate, grinning despite herself. "My tendency to pine on guys who're -" she stopped herself and almost choked. Zuko didn't laugh like he should've, just quietly took another bite.

-

It really didn't feel like he was doing this right.

Toph was too quiet and he couldn't find anything to say. Everything seemed too soon, too personal, and he couldn't stop remembering all the time he _didn't_ spend with her, back before the war ended.

He wanted to say something to inspire her or help her, but nothing he thought of felt _real._ The night outside of Gaoling, Zuko studied Toph across the fire, mulling over all the things he would have wanted to hear the night before the eclipse all those years ago. By the time the moon was over the trees, Zuko wished for nothing more than the gift to always know what to say and how.

But Toph didn't need inspiration to finally open up, a cup of tea almost to her lips. "I know this isn't what I should be doing," she murmured, almost to herself. Zuko looked up, stunned.

"What?"

Toph lowered the cup and sighed. "I know where my parents were coming from. I know they had good intentions. But it's not just about what happened - I don't care about the marriage, about any of that. If I'd talked to them, they would've cancelled it. I know they would've." She set her tea on the ground and reached into a pocket, pulling from it a small box; she opened it and pulled out a comb, decorated in ornate gold designs. "This is what they gave me on my sixteenth birthday."

Zuko nodded, lowering his own cup and studying the comb from across the campfire. "Okay…"

"My mom wanted me to wear it on my wedding day. Y'know. It was hers, and my grandmother's before her, and…well, it's been in the family for generations. But I'm going to give it back." Zuko nodded seriously, trying to follow what she was saying. "And it's not that I don't love them, and it's not that I don't think they love me - that's _not_ what this is about. You probably think I'm being stupid," she continued, her voice shaking but her face calm, "but I have to show them that just because I _need_ them doesn't mean I want to lose myself for them, y'know?"

Zuko didn't really know, but he nodded, watching her closely.

"Even when I was back…even when I was with them, all that time, I kept feeling myself turning into this other me, the one I had to be for them for so long. Someday I can go back to them. Someday I can be strong enough to stand on my own with them, and not feel like I'm losing myself, but I just…I can't. Not now." Her cheek shone more than it should've, and Zuko realized with a heavy jolt of pain that Toph was crying. "It's just so much easier to say it's because of the engagement." Toph wiped her face off with her sleeve and tucked the comb away, gritting her teeth. "I guess that makes me weak. The stupid little girl they want to protect."

Finding himself on ground he could finally understand, Zuko stood up and walked around the fire, kneeling in front of her. "No, it doesn't. You have to find your own way, and you have to do it in the way that works the best for you." He laid a hand on her shoulder, wishing he could meet her eyes and make sure his point met her. "If the engagement is what pushed those feelings over the edge, then that's what you have to hold onto - you can't let yourself forget what finally broke your patience. You can do this, Toph. You have to."

Toph nodded, a strained smile lifting her lips. "Yeah. You got it, Scarface."

-

Zuko was standing outside the door, back against a wall, too tense to be casual.

Toph had no swords or eclipse, she couldn't redirect lightning, and she doubted that either of her parents could bend. That didn't stop the adrenaline, or her hands from shaking (or the gratefulness that no matter what, he was waiting for her on the other side).

"We only wanted to make you happy," her mother said, her voice so distant and quiet and _honest_, it was painful.

"No, you didn't." Toph's words came out so smooth and sharp, separated from her. "You wanted what was best for the family name. You wanted what was best for your political standing. You wanted what was best for the daughter you wanted me to be." Toph threw her arm out, her voice rising to a shout. "I lived here for _three_ years under the delusion you'd _actually_ accepted me, and you tried to pawn me off to the highest bidder! How could you do that?"

Her father was still silent. He hadn't yet said a word. Toph couldn't remember a time he hadn't pulled out an explanation, an excuse, _anything_ to put himself on top.

"I'm _not_ sorry for ruining your yard," she continued, "and I'm _not_ sorry I ran away. Goodbye." Toph turned on her heel, heart racing with the accomplishment, face set still as the earth.

"I'm sorry, Toph," her father murmured. "I wish things could be different."

Toph gritted her teeth and threw her head back. "That's not my fault," she snapped, words barbed.

With that, she walked out, out, out, and she was gone.


End file.
